


Oops

by morrezela



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Dinners, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott accidentally makes some visiting packs think that he and Derek are engaged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratherastory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherastory/gifts).



> Disclaimer: This is not mine. MTV owns the rights. The show is Jeff Davis’s crack monkey.
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of Allison’s death and Scott still having feelings about that.
> 
> A/N: This was written for ratherastory for the Teen Wolf Rare Pair exchange on Tumblr. This is set in a mythical world after Season 3B where Kate isn’t alive, so she didn’t wolfnap Derek.  
> Many thanks to my beta debauchedsock, for the emergency beta read.  
> Any mistakes you find are my own.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says all genuine, wide eyes and hands up in the air like he couldn’t take Derek in a fight. His gesture isn’t one that an alpha, a _true alpha_ that has all manner of strength in his body, should be making.

 

Then again, it is Scott. He has a heart of gold and strength in personality that Derek envies, but his grasp of his werewolf heritage is dodgy at best. Scott clings to it when there is trouble, but ignores it in favor of what he thinks are human endeavors when his territory is at peace.

 

If Scott wasn’t friends with Stiles, he wouldn’t even know half the stuff that he does about being a werewolf. Derek can begrudgingly admit that Scott’s best friend is necessary to Scott’s success. As much as he and Stiles get on each other’s nerves, he knows that Stilinski keeps Scott going.

 

“Don’t think, ‘I’m sorry,’ is gonna cut it,” Stiles tells Scott from somewhere to Derek’s left.

 

Scott’s eyes get even wider. The deep brown openness of them belongs to a deer not a wolf. “I’m really, _really_ sorry,” Scott tells Derek.

 

Stiles groans, and Derek can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as he no doubt covers his face with his hands. He refuses to take his gaze off of Scott to confirm his hypothesis.

 

“You need to be more careful,” Derek says slowly. His tone makes it sound threatening, and he has to swallow the urge to immediately repent for threatening an alpha. Scott doesn’t know that he is supposed to take offense at a beta talking to him like that. Even if he does know, he won’t hold it against Derek because he’s Scott.

 

“I will! Totally,” Scott assures him, bouncing forward like all is forgiven.

 

Derek glares at him and crosses his arms over his chest. Scott stops in his tracks. “You’re still mad at me,” Scott realizes out loud.

 

Derek says nothing. There isn’t any point to yelling at Scott. He knows what he has done wrong.

 

“You did almost marry him off to some girl he’d never met,” Stiles helpfully points out.

 

“That wasn’t my fault!” Scott protests.

 

“Kinda was, Buddy,” Stiles counters. Derek shrugs and nods because he agrees, and Stiles has an excess of words always clamoring to fall out of his mouth. Better he fight with his friend than Derek. Stiles doesn’t have to struggle with the looming dread that his alpha is going to scruff him at any moment for being too mouthy.

 

“I thought they were complimenting your family,” Scott explains, turning back to Derek. “I didn’t know that they were, you know,” Scott gestures helplessly.

 

“Trying to see if they could poach a stud for their little werewolf farm?” Stiles unhelpfully suggests.

 

Derek and Scott both glare at him. Stiles holds up his hands as if in defeat, but Derek just knows that gesture is a lie. He doesn’t need to hear a heartbeat to know that. Scott distracts his line of thought though when he focuses his attention away from his friend and back on Derek.

 

“Okay, but, I mean. I just thought that it was a courtship thing. I didn’t know that I could like, whore you out. Not that you’re a whore! I didn’t mean that. I wouldn’t! Never! I’m not like that?” Scott trails off with a question mark.

 

“You told them that I wasn’t officially your beta,” Derek finally says. It still stings a little.

 

“You’re not,” Scott repeats. “You’re Derek.”

 

From any other alpha, that would be the biggest of insults. But Scott doesn’t understand pack the way that Derek does. He treats it as an amalgamation of friends and family, but ignores the hierarchy of it. The lack of structure chafes at Derek sometimes.

 

“They’re traditional, Scott. I’m either in your pack or not in your pack. I’m not… distantly related like the crazy uncle you only see at family reunions,” Derek says with a weary sigh.

 

Stiles chokes, but the noise sounds suspiciously like laughter. Derek can only imagine the number of jokes he is holding back about Peter. It would annoy him, but Stiles holding his tongue is a monumental effort. Derek can appreciate the sentiment if nothing else.

 

For his part, Scott hastens to reassure Derek with, “No! Of course not! You’d totally be my cousin. You’re not that old.”

 

“Isn’t it illegal to marry your cousin in California?” Stiles asks, a guffaw slipping out halfway through his sentence.

 

Derek sighs and looks up at the ceiling and reminds himself that killing his not-alpha’s best friend would be bad form. Stiles can be useful in a pinch. Stiles can use mountain ash. Stiles isn’t the person he is actually angry with at the moment.

 

“I was just trying to fix the whole thing where they were going to, I don’t know, take you to Oregon to work as a, a…” Scott runs out of steam and a slight blush settles into his cheeks.

 

“Werewolf sperm donor?” Stiles finishes the sentence for him.

 

“You told them I wasn’t ‘really’ yours. Then you told them that they couldn’t take me because I _was_ yours, but not in, ‘that way.’ What were they supposed to think?” Derek asks Scott.

 

“Not that you were my boyfriend! Who thinks like that?” Scott sounds slightly hysterical.

 

Stiles walks over and claps him on the back. “I think the word you’re looking for there is ‘fiancé’,” he reminds Scott.

 

“Not helping,” Scott growls at Stiles. He turns back to Derek. “I’ll fix it.”

 

Derek sighs. “How, Scott? You’ve got an entire delegation of packs coming to town next week. They’re going to know that we’re ‘getting married.’ It isn’t exactly the time to present a divided front.”

 

“Can’t we, I don’t know, break up?” Scott asks.

 

“If you break off our nonexistent relationship, that makes me fair game for all the packs coming here. I’m without an alpha, Scott. Not all of us are born with the inherent ability to say ‘fuck you’ to pack structure,” Derek snaps, anger burning up inside of him. Being rejected by his alpha stings even though Scott hadn’t realized that his words, and his belief behind them, would kick Derek out.

 

Then again, Scott doesn’t seem to realize that they were pack in the first place. It makes Derek itch to go hole up in his loft and lick his wounds. Only the fact that he’d look pathetic doing it is keeping him from seriously considering that as an option.

 

“You did okay with Peter,” Scott counters Derek’s argument with complete faith. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he looks like that. He’s too sincere. Always has been, even when he was angry with Derek for whatever his mistake of the week was.

 

“He killed Laura. I was planning on killing him, and he still had power over me for a while,” Derek reminds him.

 

“Gotta agree with Derek on this one,” Stiles pipes in again. “Remember how he was trailing after Peter even though he knew that he killed his sister? I don’t think that was all an act. Derek isn’t known for his long term planning.”

 

Derek glares at Stiles on principle. Stiles pulls a face back in response. It is refreshingly normal compared to how not normal Scott made things.

 

“Okay, okay,” Scott says, glancing between both Derek and Stiles like he thinks they’re about to attack him. “We’ll think of something else.”

 

“Or you could just put your money where your mouth is,” Stiles suggests.

 

That… isn’t actually a bad plan as far as Derek is concerned. He can play happy alpha mate with Scott until the other packs have had their fill of reconnoitering with the True Alpha of Beacon Hills. Derek’s mother might not have taken him to all of the meetings when outside alphas and their packs had come to seek her advice, but he’d seen far more than any of the others had. Laura might’ve been the one training to take his mother’s place one day, but he hadn’t been completely sheltered.

 

“I don’t think….” Scott begins to stutter out a reply to Stiles, but Derek cuts him off with a terse, “Fine.”

 

“What?” Both Scott and Stiles ask.

 

“Fine,” Derek reiterates himself. “We’ll play happy lovebirds until the alphas are gone. Then we’ll, I don’t know, have a fight and breakup later.”

 

“When they’re all gone, and we don’t have to worry about you being wolf-napped?” Stiles asks.

 

Derek ignores him in favor of watching Scott. He’s biting his lip and looking uncertain. “How are we going to pull that off? Aren’t they going to be suspicious?”

 

“Do you get suspicious when somebody tells you that they’re dating?” Derek asks him.

 

“Well, no. But they’re werewolves,” Scott counters.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles chimes in, “won’t they be able to smell you and stuff?”

 

“We’re playing at being engaged, not living together,” Derek says. “We’ll just have to superficially smell like each other.”

 

“But what if somebody doubts us?” Scott asks.

 

“He’s got a point,” Stiles butts in before Derek can reply. “His explanation of your ‘love’ was a bit suspicious.”

 

“It won’t matter,” Derek insists. “If anybody asks, say that we’re waiting before having sex.”

 

Stiles laughs, and Scott looks completely perplexed by Derek’s suggestion. “Waiting for what?” he asks, incredulity filling his voice.

 

Derek closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Until you’re legal, Scott.”

 

“That’s only few weeks away,” Stiles reminds him.

 

“And until that time Scott is underage,” Derek says. “Tell them I don’t want to be arrested again. If they push it, tell them that your buddy Stiles here keeps getting me in trouble with the law.”

 

“Once! Once! The second time was all Scott’s fault,” Stiles protests.

 

“Stiles!” Scott protests. “Now is not the time to bring that up!”

The tips of Scott’s ears turn red as he turns back to face Derek. “Sorry about that. The interruption, I mean. And, uh, the other stuff too?”

 

“It’s fine, Scott,” Derek tells him. What is done is done, and he has learned to accept that being a werewolf in Beacon Hills means exposure to the bickering and trouble that Scott or Scott’s friends stir up.

 

“So, we should make a list,” Stiles says when Derek and Scott just continue to stare at each other. “Of all the people that we need to let in on this little charade?” he says when neither of them respond to him.

 

“I’m not telling anybody,” Derek says as quickly as possible. He is not going to be responsible for explaining the situation.

 

Stiles rolls his eyes like Derek is being the biggest pain in his ass, but Scott just says, “That’s okay. It’s great. Thank you so much for…”

 

“Scott,” Stiles interrupts, “quit thanking Derek. You know it makes him brood. Do you want to faux make out with a brooding Derek Hale?”

 

“I am right here,” Derek reminds him.

 

“Yeah. I know, and you’re…”

 

“Stiles,” Scott hisses giving his friend a look that Derek can’t decipher, but he sincerely hopes means, “Shut the hell up.”

 

“We’ll handle it,” Scott promises when Stiles seems to capitulate to this wishes.

 

Derek just nods and thanks his lucky stars that Peter decided not to hang around for the inter-pack meetings for fear that somebody would want to kill him for killing Talia Hale’s heir.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott swallows a few times, trying to summon some courage to go into his own house. What he is about to do won’t be the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but he isn’t exactly excited for it either. Telling his mother that he got himself engaged, no matter how false the engagement, isn’t going to make her happy.

 

Still, he has to do it. When he had suggested that maybe they just didn’t need to tell his mom about it, he’d gotten a long and rambling lecture about the importance of female authority figures in the North American werewolf packs. That somehow devolved into Stiles Skyping Lydia to discuss the importance of honoring matriarchal cultures especially given how he was fake fiancé-ing the son of a woman who had been one of the most prominent female alphas in the country.

 

Scott had sneaked out of Stiles’s room at the point where Lydia began to dispute details about Stiles’s theories on Hatshepsut and the place of werewolves in ancient Egypt. There were just certain times where walking away from his best friend was the best option.

 

Unfortunately, his decision to leave means that he doesn’t have backup for his conversation with his mom. He can’t put off the discussion either. There is only so much time that he has before the werewolf delegations start arriving, and he needs to present a united front.

 

“You’re home early,” his mom says as soon as he walks into the kitchen. She’s making Jello, so Scott doesn’t really have the excuse of her being busy to delay.

 

“What’s wrong?” his mom asks before he can open his mouth.

 

“Nothing!” Scott replies, unable to stop the automatic teenage denial that he had been cultivating long before Peter Hale bit him.

 

His mom gives him a look that tells him that he isn’t being convincing. Scott knows that he is a terrible liar. Even when he can keep a secret, it isn’t because he can lie his way out of it. It’s just that he can be stubborn in keeping his mouth shut when necessary.

 

“I got engaged to Derek,” Scott blurts out. He winces almost immediately afterwards because he knows that isn’t the right way to start this conversation.

 

His mom blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

 

“Not like that,” Scott rushes to reassure her.

 

“Like what, Scott? I need a little more information than that you apparently asked Derek Hale to marry you, and he said yes. Are you on something? Is he on something? Should I call Deaton?”

 

“No, Mom, no,” Scott says. “I just kind of said something that some people took the wrong way…”

 

“‘People’ being Derek?” his mom interrupts.

 

“No, he took it the right way. Not that there was a right way because I didn’t propose, exactly. I kind of inferred to some other people that he was, uh, mine?”

 

“Scott…”

 

“I know, but those other packs are going to visit, and I need you to be on board with this. Derek says that it’s okay,” he assures her.

 

“Yes, well, Derek isn’t known for his good sense unless you’re talking about his workout regimen,” his mom reminds him as she turns back to her Jello, sprinkling miniature marshmallows into the bright green gelatin.

 

“It’s just for a little while,” Scott says. “We’ll breakup after they’re gone.”

 

“You can’t breakup with somebody you’re not actually dating,” his mom shoots back.

 

“Then we’ll fake breakup. Mom, it’s important,” Scott pleads.

 

“Fine. But Derek is coming over for dinner on Thursday.”

 

“I’m not sure we should really be making demands of him seems how got him into the mess,” Scott responds. “Can’t I just do some chores or something instead?”

 

“My only child is engaged to the man he loves,” she says in response. “I think that needs an official meet the parent dinner, don’t you?”

 

“We’re fake engaged,” Scott doesn’t whine, but he comes close. “Not real engaged.”

 

“So we’ll return the toaster I buy you for your engagement party,” his mom says with a smile that is more unholy glee than happiness.

 

Scott mumbles an acquiescent, “Okay.” He is going to owe Derek so much by the end of all of this that he’ll be walking to school because he’ll have to sell both his motorcycle and his bicycle.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Derek smiles as wide as possible when Mrs. McCall opens the door. On strangers, his grin is disarming, charming even. On the people who know him, it is disturbing or possibly terrifying.

 

Melissa eyes him for a second before answering his smile with a completely insincere one of her own. “Oh, you brought wine,” she says as her eyes land on the bottle that Derek has in his arms.

 

“I stole it from Peter,” Derek supplies as he steps across her threshold.

 

Melissa’s smile melts into something more genuine at his words. If there is one thing that can bring people together, it is a mutual dislike for Derek’s uncle.

 

“Scott is setting the table,” she says as he hangs his jacket over a coat tree that he could’ve sworn wasn’t there the last time that he’d had to break into the McCall house on the tail of some nefarious person.

 

“I think he’s terrified of me interrogating you,” she whispers to him as she leads the way to the kitchen.

 

“Scott did tell you that we aren’t actually dating,” Derek states more than asks. He hopes that it is true, but he knows that Scott was supposed to tell his mother that, but Scott isn’t always the greatest with timely sharing of information.

 

“Oh, yes. But I like to think of this as a test run and a reminder of how he shouldn’t get engaged before I actually meet his girlfriend,” she pauses and looks over her shoulder at Derek, “or boyfriend.”

 

“ _Mom_ ,” Scott’s aggrieved tone echoes into the kitchen loud enough that even Melissa’s human ears don’t have a problem hearing it.

 

“Finish setting the table,” Melissa calls back then turns to Derek, “Open the wine,” she orders, “and no claws.”

 

Derek resists the urge to immediately go to the drawer that he knows the corkscrew is kept in. There are things he did in the past that were perfectly justifiable. He hadn’t known who the alpha was, and Scott had been a loose cannon of a beta. Doing reconnaissance on the house Scott lived in had been both necessary and practical.

 

But he knows that neither Scott nor Melissa will likely take the same view of Derek’s snooping. So he tries to make his face resemble something like cluelessness as he glances around the kitchen looking for an implement that he knows is in the second drawer to the right of the sink.

 

“Here,” Melissa says as she tugs on the pull of the desired place. She hands Derek the corkscrew before pulling out a slotted spoon and a small ladle.

 

Scott appears right before Derek pops the cork out of the bottle. The startled look on Scott’s face at the sound doesn’t make him look very alpha-like. It makes Derek smile a bit to hear the slight skip of his heart at the sound. If he wasn’t aware of the situation, he’d think that Scott was excited to lay eyes on him. Derek wonders if he shouldn’t just open a wine bottle every time that one of the visiting werewolves see him and Scott interacting.

 

The idea has merit, even if it would make Derek seem like a lush, or a werewolf attempting to be a lush. Actually, it’s a horrible idea. Derek shakes his head to clear the thought away.

 

“You brought wine?” Scott asks as if he can’t smell the contents of the bottle Derek is pouring into Melissa’s wine glasses.

 

“He did, and you can’t have any,” Melissa tells him.

 

“I’m not going to get drunk,” Scott says.

 

Derek knows full well that Scott doesn’t actually want wine. Not many teenagers are oenophiles. Those that are would prefer something sweeter than the dry red wine that Derek purchased. Scott is just complaining because he can. He is doing it because his mom is there and that is the kind of thing that teenage boys do.

 

It is the sort of thing that Derek himself once did, long ago when he was more like Scott than he is now. When he was on the cusp of adulthood and looking to spread his wings, he had thought himself quite the mature individual. Now, of course, he knows the truth. He still isn’t mature. Might not ever be if he makes it a habit to keep hanging out with teenagers.

 

“You’re still underage,” Melissa tells her son, oblivious, as most people are, of Derek’s thoughts. “Now go put the potatoes on the table,” she commands as she puts a huge tureen of mashed potatoes into Scott’s hands.

 

Scott has a firm grip on his mom’s good China, so Derek doesn’t hesitate to call out, “Love you too, Honey,” as Scott is walking back out of the kitchen.

 

Melissa snorts behind him, and the tips of Scott’s ears turn pink as he hurries away. Derek doesn’t think that it is too bad of a reaction to have. Most couples aren’t overt in their affection around other people, especially strangers.

 

Sure Scott had been obvious about Allison, but not every relationship is the same. At least Derek hopes they aren’t. He is fairly certain that Scott won’t try to kill his remaining family members or friends, and he doesn’t want to be proven wrong.

 

“Need any other help?” Derek asks as he partially recorks the bottle.

 

“I’ve got it,” Melissa tells him. “Go spend some time with your future husband. I know how you young lovers don’t like to be apart.”

 

Derek gives her another insincere smile in return and carries his wine glass and the bottle into the dining room. There is a lot of food on the table, and there is a table cloth on it. It looks more like a holiday meal or at least a traditional Sunday Supper than a weekday supper. Sure Derek knew that Melissa was making a beef roast, so he knew to buy the right kind of wine, but he hadn’t expected the good silverware to be out.

 

“Mom thought that we should celebrate my engagement,” Scott tells him as Derek sets the wine down on the table.

 

Derek smiles at that. “I can only imagine what that will be like when it’s for real.”

 

“We might have to buy a whole new table. I think this one might collapse under the weight,” Scott shoots back.

 

“My mom did, when…” Derek trails off, smile on his face turning melancholic.

 

“You okay?” Scott asks, all true concern, no hint of his question just being polite manners. That is why Scott is a true alpha, and Derek isn’t meant to be an alpha at all. Derek understands vengeance and war and sacrifice. He feels love and attachment, but he isn’t one to ask about a beta’s tender feelings when there is another objective looming.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Derek lies.

 

Scott looks like he wants to call him out about that, but he doesn’t. Derek appreciates it. Scott can’t change the past. If he could, Derek imagines that he would’ve turned back the clock by now and nullified their ‘engagement.’

 

“Okay then,” Melissa bustles into the room, interrupting the soon to be awkward silence. “Let’s get this dinner started.”

 

The platter that the roast is on has a chip on its edge. Derek can’t help but notice it. It is out of place given how Melissa had obviously broken out the good dishes for the dinner. It could have sentimental value, but the uneasy feeling in his stomach doubts that.

 

More than likely it is because Melissa doesn’t have the money to replace it. He can see that the border of it matches her other china, so it isn’t just that they only have one platter. It could just be that she isn’t interested in getting another serving dish because it is just her and Scott, but he doubts that as well.

 

The McCalls aren’t horribly off for money like some people are. Scott’s clothes are always nice and clean, and Melissa gets paid well as a nurse. But being a true alpha doesn’t come with a salary increase, just an increase in responsibility and collateral damage.

 

Sure, Scott doesn’t have the need for hospital visits anymore, but he has to go through a fair amount of clothing. All of the travelling around Beacon Hills to fight the seemingly endless threats has probably taken its own financial tolls.

 

They’re not poor, Derek knows that. But they’re not well off either. The irony of their ‘engagement’ isn’t lost on him. Despite his choice of surroundings, Derek has more money than most people think. He owns more of Beacon Hills than anybody but Cora and Peter know about.

 

If Scott wasn’t a true alpha, the delegations coming would be accusing him of being a gold digger at best, a legacy digger at worst. Of course Scott wouldn’t understand that. He’s a good leader, but he is an idealist at the heart of him. He would never date anybody because of their money or power.

 

“Pass the gravy, please?” Derek forces himself to ask if only to make his thoughts stop. There will be plenty of time for politics when the delegations arrive.

 

“So, Derek,” Melissa says as she hands over the requested dish, “what do you do for a living?”

 

“Mom!” Scott sounds outraged. Derek has to smile at that. He can’t imagine Scott defending him more if they really were dating.

 

“It’s fine, Scott,” Derek tells him. “I manage investments,” he answers honestly.

 

“Really?” Melissa is obviously trying to not sound dubious about Derek’s answer, but she fails. Derek doesn’t blame her. He knows that his loft isn’t exactly what a person thinks of when they hear the words, “independently wealthy.”

 

“I’m not big on material possessions,” Derek says with a shrug.

 

“Except for your cars,” Scott interjects. “He has a really nice car, Mom.”

 

“I’m aware,” Melissa answers him. “Or I was aware. The new one is a bit of a downgrade.”

 

“It has more storage space,” Derek says because he can’t exactly argue with her about it. The Toyota is tan. It makes him look like a soccer mom.

 

“And you need the storage space for all that furniture you haul around?” Melissa asks.

 

“The dead bodies,” Derek deadpans back to her.

 

“He’s joking! He’s joking,” Scott hastens to reassure her.

 

Melissa shakes her head and takes a sip of her wine before saying, “If all you needed was room to move bodies, I’d think you could’ve just cut them up.”

 

“This isn’t happening,” Scott mumbles into his hands.

“I’m just saying,” Melissa says, mock offense pouring off her in waves. Derek knows that Scott got his heart of gold from his mother, but he definitely didn’t inherit his earnest personality form her.

 

“It’s like you want me to date the bad boy cliché,” Scott says as he stabs at the asparagus on his plate.

 

“Leather is sturdy and stylish,” Derek informs him.

 

“I hate you,” Scott tells him.

 

Derek smiles. “No you don’t. You love me. Why else would you have asked me to marry you?”

 

“Who says I proposed?” Scott challenges. “Maybe you did.”

 

Derek snorts. “Scott, don’t be ridiculous. You’re an alpha. I couldn’t just propose to you.”

 

The uncomfortable feeling of four eyes blinking at him makes Derek want to shift in his chair. He doesn’t. He hasn’t fidgeted since the fire burned his childhood out of him.

 

“What?” Melissa finally asks.

 

“It would be a breach of etiquette to propose to a higher ranking pack member,” Derek explains. “It would be seen as a challenge for power. Like Scott doesn’t know what is best for his pack. Like he can’t choose the partner that would best help him, and I felt the need to make the choice for him.”

 

“Well, that sounds sort of sexist,” Melissa mutters.

 

“It’s how my mother picked her husband,” Derek says to her, though his gaze is on Scott. They’re human, but they are still wolves with an innate need for a hierarchy. Even the betas have it. That is how the alpha power chooses the beta to go to after the alpha’s death.

 

What Derek doesn’t know is how much of that need is in Scott. He wasn’t a normal beta, and he is an alpha of legend. His acknowledged pack only has one wolf in it, and Isaac belonged to Derek first. He knows they don’t have the bond that Derek had with his betas. Derek doesn’t know if Scott feels that same pull to have his own wolves, by bite or blood, in his pack.

 

“Your mom proposed to your dad?” Scott asks. It isn’t a question borne out of surprise or shock. It is a question of politeness, maybe inquiry.

 

“She was the alpha,” Derek answers. “My mother was young when she inherited the power from my grandmother. It caused some problems with her fiancée at the time. He was bitten. He had issues with her being stronger than he was, and they cancelled the wedding. Mom used to tell the story as a cautionary taleto Laura whenever she went on a date.”

 

“But then she met your dad?” Scott asks.

 

Derek shakes his head. “She already knew my father. The way Peter tells it, Dad spent weeks preening, trying to get Mom to ask him out.”

 

“And how did he finally achieve that?” Melissa asks.

 

“He gave mom a tray of brownies as a birthday present. She wanted the recipe. He wouldn’t give it to her, so she asked him out on a date thinking that she could woo the recipe out of him.”

 

“And it was a box mix all along?” Scott guesses.

 

“No. The Swenson family brownie recipe is sacred and from scratch,” Derek says, familial pride rising in his chest.

 

“Swenson?” Scott asks. “I didn’t know you were Swedish.”

 

“I’m not,” Derek tells him. “I’m a werewolf.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scott’s back thuds lightly against the door before he sinks down against it.

 

“You okay?” his mom asks as she peeks out into the hallway.

 

“He kissed me,” Scott says dumbly.

 

“Who kissed you?” his mom asks.

 

Scott narrows his eyes at her. “Derek. Who did you think?”

 

“I don’t know. There are a bunch of strange werewolves in town; maybe one of them did it. Or it could’ve been Stiles.”

 

“Stiles?” Scott echoes.

 

“Stiles is always on the list of suspects. For everything,” his mom says as she walks over and crouches down in front of him. “Why is this bothering you? I know that wasn’t your first kiss.”

 

“First kiss with a dude,” Scott tells her.

 

“That is what’s bothering you? Really?”

 

“No,” Scott admits. “I just wasn’t prepared, you know? One moment I’m sitting there trying to give advice to some alpha from Pasadena who has issues with her teenager, and then Derek is asking my advice on proper territory marking technique like I’m going to have some great insight.”

 

“Well, that doesn’t exactly sound romantic,” his mom says.

 

“It wasn’t,” Scott insists. “It was weird. Like, I know that we’re faking this whole in love thing, but I didn’t think kissing him would be weird. But it was. Weird. Not like I didn’t expect it weird, because I thought it might happen, but like Derek weird.”

 

“So it was weird?” his mom teases him.

 

“Derek has stubble,” Scott tells her. “Allison didn’t have stubble.”

 

His mom sighs and shifts to sit down next to him. She puts her arm around his shoulders and presses a kiss against his temple.

 

“Allison smelled like flowers,” Scott continues in a soft voice. “She tasted like those cinnamon lattes that she liked drinking. Derek doesn’t taste like that. Derek, Derek didn’t like Allison, and Allison didn’t trust him.”

 

“I think that Derek’s relationship with any Argent is destined to be strained, even Allison,” his mom says carefully. “I don’t think she would judge you for kissing him.”

 

“Do you think she would if I liked it?” Scott whispers.

 

“I don’t know,” his mom answers him. “But I can tell you that _I_ don’t.”

 

“Yeah?” Scott asks.

 

“Yeah,” his mom affirms. “I’ve seen his ass in those jeans. Let me tell you, if I was younger…”

 

“I think I have stuff to do. Upstairs. Alone,” Scott blurts out as he races up to his room.

 

The walls are oddly comforting as he looks around them. He knows these walls. He isn’t going to suddenly feel strange about them because they so something unexpected such as change color or suddenly sprout wallpaper.

 

Scott blows out a breath and touches his lips. If he concentrates, he can still taste Derek in his mouth. It’s a perk of being a werewolf that he focused on when he was first dating Allison. He isn’t sure if he regrets that practice now.

 

Derek tastes like coffee just like Allison did, but it the comparison ends there. He tastes like the kind of coffee Scott’s mom makes to wake herself up when she goes in for a midnight shift: bitter, strong and smoky. It isn’t unpleasant, but it isn’t so easily likeable.

 

Derek smells like the woods. Like Scott thinks girls imagine lumberjacks smell or something. He’s definitely male, a guy. He’s a guy who kissed Scott, and it makes him feel strange inside because he liked it.

 

Scott has never been the guy who had to think about his sexuality. He knows that Danny is good looking because he isn’t blind, but he isn’t attracted to him. He also knows that Lydia is beautiful (Stiles would remind him if he didn’t.) But Scott has never been interested in Lydia even before applying the bro code to the situation.

 

There is a part of him that wonders if maybe the bite changed his way of being attracted to people or if it is his experience now that makes him like scents and tastes along with looks. How could he ever tell? He never had a girlfriend before he was bitten.

 

Scott closes his eyes and hums to himself, trying to stop his mind from thinking. It works until he starts drifting off to sleep and his brain reminds him of the scent of pine and the feeling of stubble.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Derek is trimming his beard when he hears the elevator gears start grinding. The alarm isn’t sounding though, so it is likely somebody that has the access codes. It isn’t Isaac. He is off touring Europe on his now annual summer trip with one of the most deadly hunters on the planet. There was a day when that would’ve scandalized Derek.

 

Before the doors open, Derek can make out a single heartbeat and the soft scent of Scott’s deodorant. He forces himself to relax and go back to trimming his beard. There is no need to rush out to greet an alpha that hasn’t claimed him as pack, no matter how badly his wolf and his manners say he should.

 

“Derek?” Scott asks as his booted feet clomp onto Derek’s floor.

 

“In here,” Derek calls out in response.

 

“Hey,” Scott says as he makes his way into Derek’s bathroom. He smells nervous.

 

Derek catches his gaze in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Scott responds then shakes his head. “Something.”

 

Derek razes his eyebrows in question.

 

Scott bites his lip and looks around the room. “That territory thing yesterday,” he begins.

 

“It’s nothing you should have known,” Derek reassures him.

 

“But they thought I should,” Scott points out.

 

“They’re idiots,” Derek dismisses. “Weak packs who forget that they’re talking to a man that is still in high school, no matter how strong his power is.”

 

The answer doesn’t seem to appease Scott. “You knew.”

 

“I’ve been a werewolf longer,” Derek answers.

 

“But you were my age when…. You know,” Scott says.

 

Derek closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. “I was,” he agrees after a moment. “I’m also the son of one of the most revered alphas of her generation. My sister was raised to inherit her power.”

 

“What were you raised to do?” Scott asks.

 

“Be her support, her advisor, her guard. I was supposed to protect her from movements within her pack because alphas cannot afford to be suspicious of their pack if they want to survive. I didn’t do well,” Derek admits.

 

“You couldn’t have known,” Scott tells him. Of course Scott tells him that. That is the kind of person Scott is.

 

“It was my job to know,” Derek says. “I can’t go back and undo what happened, but I can help you out with pissing contests over piles of dirt.”

 

Scott is silent for a moment. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the kissing thing. I know that we’re supposed to be pretending to be in love or whatever, but…”

 

“Scott, it’s okay,” Derek assures him. He isn’t sure why he even did it. He hadn’t planned on having any public displays of affection with Scott. In fact, he had planned against them. But it had been a long day of talking and debating and people staring at Scott like he was a god instead of a man.

 

Part of Derek had been irritated. Scott deserved to be treated like a person, not an untouchable statue to be put up on a pedestal. A less noble part of him had been basking in being paid attention to by his alpha. Isaac hadn’t been wrong when he had accused Derek of being lonely. He liked having a pack and an alpha; he craved it.

 

Derek was best as a beta. There was a sort of euphoria that came with helping his alpha achieve goals. Scott’s smile wasn’t the same as his mother’s had been. It warmed him in different ways, and before he had thought his actions through, he’d been leaning down to press a quick kiss against that smile.

 

As a supposedly engaged man, it wasn’t anything scandalous. But as an omega to a true alpha it was something shameful, needy. But Scott doesn’t need to know about Derek’s indiscretion. He doesn’t need to know that Derek likes the feel of him.

 

“I’m going to go. I promised Mom I’d bring her lunch before we went to dinner,” Scott says as he starts moving towards the door. His actions are a touch hesitant. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times as he goes as if there is something else on his mind, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

“See you later,” Derek calls after him as he leaves.

 

He takes a deep breath and is hit with the obnoxious smell of Scott’s Axe body spray. It is a blessing. Though Derek could dig underneath the smell of it to Scott’s actual scent, he doesn’t. He knows full well that his more primal side is attracted to Scott.

 

Strength and power attract Derek, and in a human world that makes him sound like a horrible person. But he is a werewolf, and he has watched Scott grow. More than that, he is somebody that Derek can trust to at least try to do the right thing. He isn’t malicious, and he’s an alpha.

 

Derek is a werewolf who grew up in an alpha’s home. It makes him feel comfortable to be with one. In the human world, people tend to date and marry people who remind them of one of their parents or at least people similar to them.

 

Logically it isn’t a surprise that Derek’s appreciation for Scott has grown into a somewhat less platonic appreciation when viewed through a sociological lens. But Derek knows that there isn’t a logical reason for developing an actual crush on Scott McCall, especially when he thinks part of that affection is stemming from the fact that Melissa gave him leftover pot roast.

 

The female head of house sharing food with him doesn’t mean the same thing that it would in a werewolf household. Even if it did, Derek isn’t actually engaged or even dating Scott. He knows that it was just a friendly gesture on Melissa’s part.

 

Derek swears to himself that he’ll be fine once their stupid charade is over. Scott will go back to focusing on school as he always does. Derek will go back to sitting in his loft, day trading and steadfastly ignoring the fact that he should redecorate the place. They will meet up whenever the next horrible mess comes to Beacon Hills. Everything will be fine.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“So then I said, ‘The only good omega is the omega three in my salmon!’” Mark Stone laughs as he finishes his story. The alpha drove all the way from Missouri, so it would be rude to tell him to go home, but Scott desperately wants to do worse than that.

 

Most of the werewolves he has met over the course of the week have been nondescript and unremarkable. It pains Scott to admit that they are all blurring together, but they are. He is sure that Derek either knows them or is taking notes though. Stiles should be able to correlate Derek’s knowledge to the database that he already put together on all of their visitors. Hopefully that will translate into Scott being able to memorize their faces and names so the next time he meets these people he doesn’t look like an idiot.

 

But Mark is definitely not going to be forgotten. Scott is going to remember him until the day he dies. He returns the favor by telling Mark to pack up his pack and go. Then he storms out of the restaurant and out into the night.

 

“You’re glowering,” Derek says as he catches up with him.

 

“Good,” Scott replies, glaring at Derek for interrupting his solitary walk of anger.

 

Derek looks surprised at his vehemence. “You want to flash a little fang too?” he asks.

 

“I don’t like him,” Scott mumbles.

 

Derek shakes his head. “Not every wolf is you, Scott.”

 

“Those are people he is talking about,” Scott growls.

 

“Omegas aren’t well thought of in any supernatural community. They’re usually cast out of a pack for a reason,” Derek reminds him.

 

“That doesn’t make what he was saying right,” Scott says.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” Derek agrees.

 

“You do okay,” Scott says.

 

Derek sighs and stops in his tracks, forcing Scott to halt a few steps ahead of him. “No, Scott. I don’t,” he says in a tone that is a mix of patient and sad. Derek always sounds sad, even when he is angry.

 

It takes a few seconds for Derek’s words to sink in. They bang back and forth in Scott’s brain like a marble in an empty glass bottle. Then they make a shiver go down Scott’s spine.

 

Scott feels the need to protest Derek’s statement. “But you’re…”

 

“I’m a werewolf, Scott. I’m not made to be alone,” Derek explains to him gently, like he thinks that Scott is going to get his feelings hurt.

 

“Why do you stay?” Scott asks. “Any of those packs that have visited would’ve taken you.”

 

There isn’t any mistaking the pain that crosses Derek’s face at Scott’s words.

 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Scott hurries to reassure him. “I don’t want you to go or anything.”

 

“But you don’t want me either,” Derek says.

 

“You’re my friend,” Scott says. Because he thinks that is true now. Derek has been different since Cora. He hasn’t been the hard, confrontational person that he used to be. Scott thinks they’ve moved past mere allies.

 

“Your friend but not your pack,” Derek’s voice doesn’t crack as he speaks. It doesn’t sound anything but flat, and Scott wonders if he’s even been reading the same book as Derek lately let alone been on the same page.

 

“I’m younger than you,” Scott tells him.

 

“I noticed,” Derek retorts.

 

“I didn’t think that you…”

 

“No, Scott. You didn’t think. Because you never….”

 

“Hey, whoa, did I interrupt a fight? Are you breaking up, Hot Stuff? Because I’ve got a spare bedroom I could smuggle that sweet omega ass into back home,” Mark Stone interrupts.

 

“I thought I told you to get out of my territory,” Scott snarls.

 

“Well, I figured I might’ve insulted you what with your sweet little something here having recently omega’ed himself. Damn shame, giving up all that power and then his own flesh and blood leaves him for her old pack,” Mark rocks back on his heels giving Derek a filthy once over.

 

Scott expects Derek to react. Of the two of them, Derek has the shorter fuse even if he doesn’t carry the same amount of righteous anger that Scott does. What Scott doesn’t expect is for Derek to punch the man in his groin. The resulting howl echoes down the street. It is a testimony to the weirdness of Beacon Hills that nobody pokes their heads out any doors or windows to see what the commotion is.

 

“Get your ass out of town before I decide I want to be an alpha again,” Derek says as he turns and walks away.

 

Mark turns to Scott and grins. “He feisty like that in the sack?”

 

Scott is contemplating breaking the other alpha’s nose when Derek turns, comes back and breaks it for him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Derek is sleeping in. He’s sleeping in because he can, and he doesn’t particularly feel like facing the world. He thinks he has earned it, but Scott McCall apparently has other plans.

 

The other man is currently wearing a groove in Derek’s flooring as he paces back and forth outside his door. Sometimes Derek thinks Scott forgets that other werewolves have just as good hearing as he does.

 

It takes a supreme amount of effort to drag himself out of bed, but he does it for the sake of his entryway. He has already spent way too much money refinishing the floors after his fight with Kali.

 

“What do you want?” is perhaps not the best way to answer the door, but Derek doesn’t care.

 

Scott smiles at him, stupid dimples coming out in full force. He has a waffle iron in his hands. At least, Derek thinks that it is a waffle iron. It could be something else inside a waffle iron box.

 

“I brought you a present,” Scott announces.

 

“I was afraid of that,” Derek responds.

 

Scott’s smile dims. “You don’t like waffles?”

 

“I would like to know why there is somebody on my doorstep at ten in the morning,” Derek tells him.

 

“It’s a ‘Welcome to the Pack!’ gift,” Scott informs him. “Mom and Lydia both said that I should get you something. We weren’t sure what you already had though because we’ve never seen your kitchen. But we thought you probably didn’t have a waffle iron.”

 

Scott’s face is so earnest that Derek finds himself embracing a waffle iron box before he knows what happened. “Thank you,” he says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

 

“No. Thank you,” Scott counters. “For the, uh, you know, engagement.”

 

Derek sighs. “Scott, don’t take me into your pack because you’re grateful.”

 

“I’m not,” Scott tells him. “I’m doing it because I didn’t realize that you wanted to be. Ethan and Aiden didn’t have problems asking.”

 

“Because I didn’t need to ask. I was in your pack in an auxiliary way until you said I wasn’t,” Derek explains.

 

“Just that easy? That doesn’t make any sense!” Scott protests.

 

“Neither do werewolves,” Derek reminds him.

 

“Yeah. Okay,” Scott concedes. “So are we good now?”

 

“Sure,” Derek says.

 

“Good, because I need to ask you something as a friend, not as your alpha or whatever.”

 

“You are my alpha, Scott. I can’t separate you from that.”

 

Scot frowns. “Okay, but I don’t want you to feel pressured.

 

“If I promise I won’t, will you just tell me?” Derek asks.

 

“Okay. Fine. Would you go out with me? Like on a date?” Scott’s voice doesn’t crack when he asks. He sounds very certain.

 

“Why?” Derek asks. “Last I checked, I wasn’t your type.”

 

“You are, I think? Like you have dark hair and pretty eyes, but that isn’t why I’m asking. I’m asking because I realized that there is a lot of stuff that I don’t know about werewolves, but there is more that I don’t know about you. And you kiss nice.”

 

“I kiss nice?” Derek asks.

 

“It’s more of a reason than most people have when they ask a guy out,” Scott reasons.

 

“Are you sure you want to?” Derek asks.

 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just say yes because I’m the alpha?” Scott counters.

 

Derek raises an eyebrow at him, and Scott caves. “Look, you’re not Allison. Nobody will ever be her, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. When she died, part of me went with her. I grieved, and maybe I missed out on something great with Kira because of that. But I think I’d like to try out dating somebody who doesn’t have a weapons fixation for a change.”

 

“So I kiss nice and don’t keep a crossbow underneath my pillow?” Derek asks.

 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Scott admits.

 

Derek tilts his head to the side and considers it for a moment. “Okay,” he agrees.

 

“Okay?” Scott asks.

 

“Yes. Okay,” Derek says with a smirk. “Now go home. I need some time alone with my waffle maker.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Derek picks Scott up for their date, he’s driving the Camaro. He comes to the door with a heaping platter of brownies. It isn’t until Scott and Melissa binge eat them while watching late night horror flick that they notice that it matches Melissa’s china pattern.

 

 

 


End file.
